


Epsilon

by SaiseiTunes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clones, Gen, Jedi Ahsoka Tano, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Protective Ahsoka Tano
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28504650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaiseiTunes/pseuds/SaiseiTunes
Summary: Epsilon Squad are the best of the best among Republic Commandos, the ones who can complete even the toughest of missions, the ones who have become so known for their ability to survive impossible odds, that they've gained the nickname Death Defiers. So when Epsilon goes on a mission to capture a high-ranking Separatist, they expect it to be a simple, run-of-the-mill mission. Nothing they can't handle.But things are rarely that simple.When one of Epsilon's members is separated from the group during the drop, Epsilon finds themselves in a situation they've never faced before. The lone trooper learns a terrifying truth that puts the entire mission in jeopardy, and the troopers are suddenly presented with a difficult choice, not helped by the arrival of a former Jedi. Do they follow orders, or do they go the extra mile to tilt the odds in the Republic's favor?
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Clone Troopers, Ahsoka Tano & Original Character(s), Ahsoka Tano & Original Clone Trooper Character(s), original clone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first real attempt at writing longer, multi-chapter fanfiction, so I apologize if things aren't exactly perfect or outright incredible. Also, for timeline clarification, this story is set in the Legends universe. Last but not least, this is a project I've wanted to do for a long time. I can't promise constant updates, but I'll do my absolute best to keep pushing forward and give you Epsilon's full story. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Arca Company as a whole tended to forget about Epsilon Squad. Not because of them being lower skill or getting fewer missions to carry out, but because of how often they’d go on stealth missions that required radio silence at all times. Even among the ranks of clone commandos, sent on elite and covert missions, Epsilon was in a league of its own. They got the highest risk missions out of all the commandos, including some missions regarded as death sentences, even among the members of Epsilon themselves. As a result, they had gained the unofficial nickname of “Death Defiers,” and they wore the name proudly. Their latest mission proved why they had earned the name. A trip to a Separatist-controlled city had them hiding in plain sight among the civilians, with the end goal of crippling a droid center there. For any other squad, this assignment had a 95% chance of capture or death. For Epsilon, it was Tuesday. The mission had gone off without a hitch, and they were planning to head back to Coruscant for a debrief.

Epsilon Squad was in transit back to Triple Zero, the clone trooper nickname for Coruscant, when they got the call. It was Epsilon’s leader, RC-5324, better known among the commandos as Arc thanks to his propensity for electrical equipment, who answered it. The projector sprung to life, and the 4 commandos were met with the blue, holographic form of Jedi General Arligan Zey, Director of Special Forces for the clones. RC-7294, Tor, frowned beneath his helmet as he saw the general appear. _He looks tired_ , he thought. _More than he usually does._ Tor was used to the Generals seeming tired. The war had a habit of dragging a man, or a clone, down. But this… this was different.

“Man, the news the General has for us cannot be good if he looks like that.” Tor heard the voice of RC-9216, whom his squad called Wing, over the secure comlink. Tor’s frown turned into a slight smirk. Wing had an uncanny habit of being able to read another trooper’s thoughts. It was unnerving at first, but then you learned how Wing had the ability to defuse tension with a well-placed joke or snark, and it became more relaxing. Feeling stressed? Count on Wing to cheer you up.

“Good afternoon, Epsilon,” Zey said, giving a courteous nod to all 4 troopers. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. Your return to Coruscant will have to be a short one.”

Arc was the one who spoke up. “Another mission, General?” If he was disappointed at all by the sudden change of plans for the troopers, then Tor couldn’t detect it. Arc had always been better at hiding his emotions compared to everyone else in Epsilon Squad.

Zey nodded solemnly. “It shouldn’t be too difficult, thankfully. I know we owe you some face time with Skirata. He wouldn’t stop badgering me about it.”

The secure comlink crackled to life once more, and this time it was Link, RC-7256, who spoke. “That sure sounds like _Kal-buir_ , doesn’t it?” Tor heard Wing laugh at Link’s comment. Out of all the members of Epsilon, Link was probably the one who truly thought of Skirata as a father. You could hear it in his voice. That same exasperated embarrassment, mixed with genuine love and adoration. The kind of tone that only a son or daughter could have when they were talking with their father.

Arc, to his credit, managed to keep a straight face at Zey’s mention of Skirata. “We’ll see him soon enough. What’s our mission, sir?”

“Republic intelligence has uncovered a high-ranking Separatist on the move to Numidian Prime.” Zey’s voice lost its more apologetic edge it had before, and became harder as the general began speaking of Epsilon’s next mission.

“Numidian Prime?” Arc tilted his head, his voice confused. “Sir, why would any Separatist go there? If they’re not going for a quick fuel stop, there’s nothing on the planet for them. Just smugglers and thieves.” All of Epsilon knew this little piece of info by heart, thanks to one of their earliest missions. An assassination of a Separatist supporter had brought them there to find out more about their target. Tor recalled the many, many bar fights they had gotten into thanks to the locals’ desires to not be outed to the Grand Army of the Republic, nevermind the fact that the GAR had bigger issues on their plates at the time.

Zey shook his head. “We thought there was nothing on the planet for the Separatists. Those same intelligence agents found out that there’s apparently a droid factory hidden within the jungles of the planet.”

“So our mission is to take out the factory and the Separatist, in that case?” The other commandos were dead silent at this point. Among Epsilon, there was an understanding that the first commando to speak did the talking for the rest of the call. Arc had spoken first, as he tended to do, and so he was the only one of them speaking.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to deny you the pleasure of raiding a second droid factory in a row, Epsilon. We don’t know the fortifications there, and we’ll need to find out more before we can authorize a strike. For now, your only target is the official, Kel Denive, head of the factory.” Zey’s image disappeared, and it was replaced with an image of a bald man, standing tall, arms crossed, a scowl etched on his face. The hexagonal logo of the Separatists could be seen on the right shoulder of the man’s uniform. Tor made a silent mental image of the face. That was Kel Denive. That was Epsilon’s latest target.

“Do we need to bring him in alive or dead, sir?”

“Alive would be preferable. We need to get whatever information we can out of him. Can’t afford to lose any men due to an avoidable surprise.”

Tor sighed. It was a shame that they couldn’t take out the factory, and it probably made more sense to try and take it out in that instant. With the head of the factory gone, it would be left in a far more vulnerable position, more susceptible to an assault. But the general’s orders were final, in this case.

“Understood, sir. We’ll complete the mission and meet you back at Triple Zero. Epsilon out.” Arc clicked off the projector, and turned back to the squad. “You lads know the drill. Mission data should be coming up shortly. We’ll make a supply stop at the nearest planet if necessary.”

Wing took off his helmet and walked over to one of the seats in the ship, sitting down and placing the helmet beside him. “Special forces doing special forces missions? We’re the lucky ones.”

“Kal will be happy,” Tor remarked. It was the first word he had spoken since the call from Zey. “He trained us for this.”

“Shame that so many special forces are doing normal trooper’s jobs,” Link said, helmet still on. “Why even have commandos if they’re not gonna do commando jobs?” All 4 of the clones knew about how thinly spread the GAR was, and the toll it was taking on the troops. None of them liked it, but none of them could do anything about it, and that’s what really ticked them off.

“Just shut up and focus on the task at hand,” Arc said, giving Link a playful knock on the side of his helmet. “You can mope about the troop deployments back on Triple Zero.” Arc raised his hand to the side of his helmet, listening to some disembodied voice. After a nod, he lowered his hand. “Alright, Epsilon. We’re going to make a quick rendezvous with the _Core Conveyor_ . They have the jet packs we’ll need to make our drop."

“Didn't Omega go on the _Conveyor_ at some point? The Gaftikar mission, right?” Tor asked. Tor liked Omega. They had a nice dynamic, and, in Tor’s opinion, a better dynamic than most of the commando squads out there.

Arc nodded quickly. “Don’t get too excited. We’re not even stepping foot on the craft. It’ll take too much time. And we can't have you doting over Republic Commando history, Tor. We really don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Well we’ll have time later,” Wing said, cheery as ever. “Assuming their mission doesn’t end with them in trouble or in body bags. Now, if we were going, we wouldn’t have to worry about the whole body bag thing, right?”

“Death Defiers forever,” Tor said with a smile. The 4 clones all felt the ship shudder as it prepared to make the jump to lightspeed. They reacted immediately, all finding their seats, and strapping in. Soon enough, the ship blasted off, headed towards the RV point.

\--------------------------

“Fierfek, we look like idiots,” Wing quipped. Epsilon was all kitted out in their jump packs, and the white colors stood out rather heavily against the group’s black Night Ops Armor.

“I’m not complaining,” Link said, activating the wings and observing them as best as he could before shoving them back into place. “Sure beats parajumping or low altitude drops. Those are nightmares.”

Arc silently watched his brothers joke around about the wings, going over the mission info again and again in his head. The plan was simple enough, in theory. They’d jump down to the jungles below and make a beeline for the nearest city. From there, they’d follow the convoy that Denive was traveling in, attack it, and capture the Separatist. From there, they’d head back to the city, get picked up, and return to Coruscant with the prisoner. Cut and dry mission, nothing special. So why did he feel so uneasy?

“ _Vod_.” The sound of Tor’s voice snapped Arc out of his reverie. He stood up and faced Tor. “We’re approaching the point. 10 minutes to drop.”

Arc nodded slowly. “Keep your head on straight, _Tor’ika_. I’d hate to see you lose it.”

Tor laughed. “It’s not me you have to worry about. It’s the comic relief you should stress over.” Tor pointed to Wing who was struggling to retract his wings after accidentally releasing them.

Arc rolled his eyes and walked over to Wing, shoving the wings back into place. “You’d think with a name like Wing, you’d be better at handling these packs.”

“I’m better in the air, Sarge. Really, I am.” Arc imagined Wing giving a sheepish smile beneath his helmet.

“I’ll believe it when I see it. Alright boys, get ready! 7 minutes to go!” By now, all of the commandos were in position, each of them with their own little visual tic, or lack of one. Arc was standing still, Wing was bouncing on the balls of his feet, Link was crouching and then standing back up, and Tor was rubbing his hands together in anticipation. The loadmaster opened up the hatch, and Arc found his visor besieged by dust particles being thrown about by the wind. Just another day in the life of a commando.

“Epsilon, your stop’s coming up. 1 minute to drop,” the loadmaster said, business as usual. There was that feeling in the pit of Arc’s stomach again, that feeling that something was incredibly wrong.

 _Shake it off, Arc. You’ve got a job to do._ Arc heard the loadmaster make the call, he took 5 running steps forward, and then he was dropping. “Alright, Epsilon. Deploy wings in 3, 2, 1, now!” At Arc’s call, all 4 members of Epsilon squad deployed their wings, and just like that, they were flying above the treetops.

“Smooth sailing from here, right guys?” Tor asked over the comlink.

“In theory,” Link replied. “Let’s not celebrate until we’re on the ground.” 

The group was pretty far above the surface. They’d have a while to fly before they hit the ground. Arc expected it to be an uneventful flight. Which is why the comlink crackling to life in his ear made him raise an eyebrow.

“Epsilon, we may have an issue.” It was the pilot, and he sounded nervous.

“Go ahead,” Arc said, that sinking feeling in his stomach growing worse and worse with each passing second.

“Radar reads several Separatist AA guns down on the surface… and they’re pointing right towards us.”

Arc muted his comlink and let out a series of _Mando_ curses that would’ve made Kal Skirata’s eyes widen. Even the most stone cold of leaders had to let some emotion show now and then. Just so long as the outside world didn’t see it. “How bad is it?” The next thing he heard was the sound of lasers whipping past the ship.

“Pretty bad!” the pilot called out. Then an explosion, then rapid alarms beeping frantically. “We’re going down! Epsilon be careful out the-” The signal cut off there. Arc took a glance back, and saw the ship, one wing on fire, spiraling down to the ground.

Arc immediately went on Epsilon’s secure comlink. “Did you lads hear that?”

Wing was the one who spoke up. “Yeah, I heard it. This isn’t good.” Seconds after he said that, blaster fire began ripping through the air towards the 4 clones. The reaction was immediate. All 4 clones began doing their best to maneuver around the blaster shots with their jump packs.

“This was supposed to be a stealth drop,” Link said, his voice concerned and angry as he concentrated on dodging the bolts. “What the _shab_ happened?”

“They knew,” Tor said frantically. “Somehow, they-”

Arc was looking towards Tor when it happened. A shot went towards Tor. He leaned over to dodge it, but his reaction time was a second too slow. The bolt impacted the left wing of Tor’s jump pack, tearing it off. Tor began barrel rolling, spiraling fast towards the ground, all comlink signals gone. The last thing Arc saw of his brother was his form slamming into the trees and tumbling down into the jungle below.


	2. Chapter 2

The fall was rough from the start. The blaster bolt’s impact had sent vibrations all throughout Tor’s armor, and the heat from the bolt felt as if it was going to melt right through his armor. And then the barrel rolling started. Over and over and over he spun through the air, out of control, barreling straight for the surface. Sky and land became one singular blur as he plummeted out of the sky, the wind whipping through his ears. The impact on the tree was even worse. A huge whack that made Tor audibly cry out in pain followed by several more impacts on other trees as the commando slowly fell down to the earth. When he finally landed there, he stayed on the ground for a solid 5 minutes, doing his best to regain his senses. It didn’t work. 5 seconds after he got up, he immediately wrenched off his helmet and ran to a nearby bush, heaving and retching from his violent descent.

Afterwards, when he finally had some sense of control, when the vomiting and the delirium and the aching was done, Tor began to assess the situation. The first thing he did was take off his jump pack and fling it away towards the bushes. The next thing he did was put his helmet on and try to use the comlink to contact his squadmates. The low crackle of static was all he ended up hearing.

 _Must be out of range_ , he thought, letting out a low curse. No way to contact his brothers now, and who knew how far they were going to land away from him? Tor, for the first time in his entire career with Epsilon, was entirely on his own.

“Alright, Tor. Get your _shebse_ together.” Tor spoke to himself. It was all he could do at the moment, the only way for him to not lose any sense of his sanity or lose focus. He wasn’t used to this. He was always able to hear his brothers bantering, or Arc ordering the squad around to get to their next mission point. The silence was unnerving. The sounds of the jungle were all that Tor heard. And then, suddenly, there was a new sound. Footsteps. Tor’s reaction was immediate. He dove behind a bush, the only sort of cover he could find in the jungle.

Tor peered through the leaves as the footsteps drew nearer and nearer. Eventually, Tor could make out the distinctive shape of a robotic foot making tracks in the ground. A B1 Battle Droid, its signature E-5 blaster rifle held in hand. Tor saw it walk a few feet before stopping in its tracks and turning around. Tor couldn’t see its upper half due to his position behind the bush, so he had no idea what exactly the clanker had actually done. His question was soon answered as he saw 2 more sets of robotic feet move into his field of vision. The droid had signaled for its buddies.

“We saw him crash down over here,” one droid said in its signature high-pitched voice. “Spread out and look around for him.”

The other two droids didn’t hesitate before replying with a quick “Roger, roger.” The next thing Tor saw were the two new droids’ legs bumping into each other as the droids walked around. Tor rolled his eyes. Clankers always did have a habit of being stupid. Made to follow orders, not to think for themselves like a clone.

Eventually, one droid made its way over to the jump pack, and peered over it. “I found the clone’s pack,” it said, and gestured for the other two droids to come to it. With all the droids’ backs turned, Tor seized his opportunity and moved behind a nearby tree, now able to get a better look at the droids as they huddled over the jump pack.

“He can’t have gotten far,” one said. “That fall should’ve broken him.”

“How do you know?” Another one bit back. “Have you ever seen a clone fall before?” This set off an argument among the three droids, and Tor rolled his eyes yet again. He was about to blast them and get it over with, when a voice rang out. And this time, it wasn’t the high-pitched metallic voice of a clanker. It was a humanoid voice.

“Droids!” All 3 droids turned around and stood at attention, and Tor watched as a Neimoidian walked up to the droids. “Have you made any progress in finding the clone?”

“No, sir,” one of the droids said quickly. “We found his jump pack, but no sign of the clone.”

“And the other three clones?”

“We believe they got away, sir.”

The Neimoidian’s red-orange eyes narrowed, and he looked at the droid furiously. “You what?”

“Orders were to shoot the clones down and kill them if they were still alive.”

“After all of them were shot down you imbecile!” The Neimoidian pulled out a blaster pistol and fired a shot that missed the droid by inches. It didn’t react. It just stood there. After all, droids weren’t meant to feel fear or pain. A blaster bolt wouldn’t cause them to react unless it made direct contact. The Neimoidian growled, and turned around. “Report back to base! And be glad I haven’t turned you into scrap metal!”

“Roger, roger.” The droid and its 2 buddies started walking back to wherever they came from, following the Neimoidian, disappearing into the foliage.

Tor took a couple steps away from the tree once he was sure that the droids and the Neimoidian were gone. Tor hadn’t expected to see a Neimoidian in the jungle, commanding droids. He was used to seeing the slimy buggers sit behind desks at Trade Federation offices. To see one in what he only assumed to be an officer’s position was interesting. Tor blinked twice to open up his helmet’s HUD and take a look at the map of where he was supposed to go, the nearby city that the locals named Outridge. If the landing had gone according to plan, Tor would’ve been about 3 miles out. But that sadly wasn’t the case. Tor checked and double checked his coordinates, before groaning and letting out an exasperated “Fierfek.” He was 25 miles out. A good 2 day’s worth of hiking at his current pace as opposed to the planned 1 day of hiking. 

Tor grabbed his backpack, detaching the wings from the jump pack, and started off in the direction of Outridge, but only took a couple steps before freezing. That Neimodian and those droids had gone back to a base of some sort. Tor frowned. It was a risk, but… if Tor snuck back into that base, he figured there would be a good chance of him learning how the commandos had been discovered, despite their supposed stealth drop status. From there, he’d hotfoot it in the direction of Outridge to make up for lost time, and try to rendezvous with his team. 

Tor shook his head and chuckled to himself. “Arc’s gonna call me a crazy _shabuir_ if I make it out of this alive.” He could see the Neimoidian’s footprints in the mud, and the footprints of the droid. It would be easy to follow them. He set off in their direction, staying low to the ground at all times. A commando was certainly formidable alone, but he sure wasn’t invincible, and Tor was taking no chances after the luck he’d been having.

\--------------------------

For Arc, Wing, and Link, the rest of the jump had gone a lot more smoothly. They had been shot at by blaster bolts, sure, but they had managed to dodge the rest of them, and, after Arc saw Tor hit the trees, the blaster fire had cut off. Arc couldn’t figure out why, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about it.

By now, the three clones had touched down, and were discarding the winged parts of their jump packs, keeping the actual backpack with rations and supplies strapped to their backs. Wing kept staring in the direction of where Tor had crashed down. “See? I told you I was better in the air…” Wing’s voice was soft and broken. It sounded as if he was trying to cheer himself up more than the others.

Arc said nothing, didn’t even look in Wing’s direction. He kept his head down, and kept walking forward.

Link turned to face him. “Are we not going back for him? Gotta do something to save his _shebs_ , right?”

Arc paused for a second, looking back at Link before softly shaking his head. “It’s suicide to go back there. You saw what happened. We were pelted with blaster fire. You really want to try to go back there in a ground assault where they can get a better lock on us?”

Wing spoke up now, finally breaking his gaze away from the direction of Tor’s fall. “Suicide? Arc, suicide is our entire MO. We’re the Death Defiers, remember? Impossible odds are our middle name!”

“What if this is the time that our luck runs out, _Wing’ika_?”

Arc reached out to put a hand on Wing's shoulder, but the other clone quickly slapped it away. “Don’t you ‘ _Wing’ika_ ’ me, Arc. We don’t leave a man behind. Ever. You really think Tor could stand a chance back there?”

“If he’s alive, then chances are he’s probably gonna find a way out of there.”

“What if he’s injured? What if he was knocked unconscious by the fall?” Wing’s voice was steadily rising now as he got angrier and angrier. “I can’t lose a brother, Arc! I can’t!” Wing sighed and looked down. He said something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “Not again” to Arc, before looking back at the crash site.

Link walked up to Wing and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Look, _ner vod_ , if he’s unconscious, then he’s probably guarded by a ton of droids and probably some organics too. Going in there would be a stupid idea. We can’t risk the mission, even if we want to. And trust me, I want to save Tor too. But if he’s captured… it’s probably too late for him already.” It was a blunt truth, but Arc knew as Link spoke that it had to be said.

“And if he’s alive?” Wing’s voice was soft again, almost as if he was scared to even give himself hope that Tor had survived.

“If he’s alive, he knows the mission. And if he’s alive, he can evade the enemy. Like you said, he’s a death defier.” Link gave Wing a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “For now, we need to get our _shebse_ out of here before it gets dark.” With that, Link started walking towards the town, followed by Arc. After what felt like ages to Arc, Wing started following behind the two clones as well.

Arc had a feeling that they wouldn’t get too far today. The sun had already been hanging high in the sky when Epsilon first got to the planet, what little of it they could see through the treetops anyways, and within an hour of walking, it had already begun to set. Arc sighed and started to collect some sticks and wood for a makeshift fire.

Wing watched Arc slowly as the leader fired a single blaster shot into the wood shavings, setting it ablaze. His eyes tracked the embers as they started to float up and away towards the sky. “Sure it won’t start a fire, Sarge?”

Arc shook his head. “It shouldn’t. Too much moisture in the air for the embers to catch anything on fire, if the planet’s info was right.”

Wing nodded hesitantly. Arc took off his helmet, and looked at his brother. “He’s fine. Tor’s made of thick stuff. He’ll get out of there.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we blow up that facility for him. He’d like that.” Wing shrugged, and took his helmet off as well, reaching into his pack for a ration cube. He took a bite and grimaced at the taste, or, rather, the lack of any taste. Arc didn’t blame him. The cubes were good for nutrition, but offered no value as far as enjoyment was concerned. That came secondary in the mission. Most emotions came secondary, now that he thought of it.

Arc wished that there was a little more room for the clones’ feelings in the whole matter of the war. You couldn’t expect living beings to follow some higher power’s every order without having some questions. And what’s the point in having a soldier trained to be a killing machine if they could be affected by trauma? Arc remembered clones he’d seen on a medical base back at Triple Zero, huddled in corners, screaming in their sleep. There was no care for them. They were treated as machines. As droids. But now he was doing the same thing. Disregarding his brother’s life in favor of completing the mission they were given. Didn’t that make him as bad as the people in charge of the whole GAR?

Arc shook off those feelings for the moment. He’d come to grips with them in the morning. He finally turned his gaze to what he hoped was Tor’s current location. “Stay safe, _Tor’ika_ ,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

\--------------------------

 _This is an incredibly stupid idea_ , Tor thought as he followed the footprints. It didn’t take him long to reach a small cliff overlooking a sort of clearing. Tor saw the footprints heading down a path to his right, but it was clear what he was seeing at this point from the cliff itself: a small little outpost, right there in the center of the clearing. Several metal structures were strewn about, radar dishes strapped to the top, scanning for any sign of the enemy. Tor could see droids wandering about, patrolling or bringing various items. He heard calls in Galactic Basic, and several alien languages, directing the flow of movement in the camp. There was no doubt about it. Tor had just found the Separatists’ hideout here, the place where they had shot him down, shot the sip down, and tried to shoot his brothers down.

Tor immediately got on his stomach, flattening himself against the ground so nobody could see him. He reached down to the side of his armor and pulled out a pair of electrobinoculars, scanning the area for that Neimoidian he had seen earlier. Tor didn’t spot him at first, but that was because, when he found the Neimoidian, it was on the edge of the camp, opposite from where Tor was. The Neimoidian gave some sort of orders to a couple of droids before walking into a tent at the far end of the camp. The droids reacted immediately, standing in front of the tent, guarding it.

Tor lowered his electrobinoculars, and sighed. What he was about to do was the opposite of common sense. And yet, he knew that Neimoidian had some sort of info on the Separatists’ plans here, and some sort of info on how the commandos were shot down. So Tor decided that he had no choice. He’d have to get closer to the camp. That was the easy part. The tricky part was figuring out how to get closer to the camp, and get out of there undetected.


End file.
